5/10/13—Being the Ripple

Today's Draw Classic*: Kizzie, my handsome boy. Do you know how significant your power is in the world? Do you realize that each and every day you make an impact on the overall vibration of humanity? How will you use your power today?

If you're a regular at the Daily Draw, then you've probably seen this post in some version before. Usually when I do repeat posts, I try to choose one I've never repeated before. But this particular post is different. For one, it's perfect for our week's theme of how much more awesome we are than we know. Second, my Kizzie boy has a hurt toe this week and is limpy, so he needs to be honored. And third, I've rewritten this post a couple of times, so it no longer fully resembles what it was originally. The last time I rewrote it was after my brother died. Anyway, it's one of my favorite posts. And when it calls to me, I repost it. :) So....

The other day I saw something I've seen a million times. Only this time, I saw it in a completely different way. My dogs and I took a trip to the park and my boy, Kizzie, decided to go in the river for a dip. As I saw him standing there, I noticed all the ripples issuing out with him at the center. Each time he moved, a new set of ripples would form. And the ripple effect of each motion would continue out into the river, despite the current. Despite anything. Indefinitely.

His presence was recorded throughout the river that day—through the ripples in the water, the displacement of the air around his ripples, and by his ripples meeting the shore and bouncing back. In the same way, his presence was recorded throughout the universe. Beyond that, on land, the wag of his tail, his body temperature and the sound of his breath had a similar effect in the environment around him, sending forth kinetic, sonic and heat waves from his body.

According to Wikipedia, a wave is a "disturbance (an oscillation) that travels through space and time, accompanied by the transfer of energy." Einstein's famous equation, E=MC2, posits that everything in the universe is energy. So what we see in the water above is Kizzie's energetic body having an effect on the water's energetic body. And since energy is never created or destroyed—only transferred—the effect he has is eternal. Pervasive. Ubiquitous.

Our lives work the same way. You create a kind of ripple when you have children...a ripple that goes on way beyond your lifetime. But even if you don't have children, you create it through everyone you come into contact with...every life you touch. There is nothing about us—no thought, no emotion, no scent, no delicate resting of silk on skin—that doesn't cause a disturbance that travels through space and time. 

So imagine the kind of ripple effect even something as simple as a smile can create. You smile at someone and cause them them to smile and feel a little more part of this world. That changes them, even if ever so slightly in that moment, and that change is passed on to the others they encounter that day. The vibration they spread is just a smidge higher than it would have been. And the people they encounter are similarly raised. And so on. And so on. And it ripples around the world, back past the original smiler, indefinitely. 

Of course the same is true about being a grumpy gus.

But the point I'm making is that no matter how "small and insignificant" we are, the impact of our every breath and thought echoes out into the universe to create the "whole". And that impact continues long after our death. We're still benefiting from the simple work of the men who built the railroads, women who showed their independence and the early men and women who moved out of caves and built humanity's first communities. We're also still affected by the ripple created by those who never spoke up against Hitler, spread the belief that the earth was flat and sailed to Africa to grab people and make them slaves in the New World. 

If you've ever been to an emotionally charged historic site, you can still feel it in the air. Occasionally I drive through the Manassas battlefield where so many lost their lives during our Civil War. The air is different there. It's palpable. Another place that comes to mind is Cape May, NJ, where the ripples of risque ladies in their swim dresses still echoes in the surf. 

For better or for worse, everything that has ever happened adds to the ripple of everything that ever will. As will your choices to recycle, eat meat, hate a particular race, reach out to the needy or make myriad other choices. We cannot have the foresight to see the impact of our choices in any given moment, but the energy we put out continues to ripple on indefinitely, even if it dissipates over time and is transferred into something else. 

The beautiful thing about this is that, regardless of what you believe about God and heaven, we live on in this very real way for eternity. We matter. No matter how normal and mundane our contributions. Do you think those railroad men, like my grandfather, felt like the kings of transportation, trade, information sharing, development and connection that they were? My mother was one of those women who paved the path for other women to hold "men's jobs". Look at what has come from that! That's not what she was doing—she just wanted to put her competence to good use—but look at what came of it. 

There is a reason for you being here. Even beyond our deaths, in the memories and minds of those we leave behind, we continue to send out ripples that, even for a moment, change the way our loved ones consider their lives. There is nothing we do, nothing we are, that doesn't have this import in the lives around us and the lives around all those people, etc. 

You are the ripple. Everything you say and do today will be forever felt by the universe. How will you use your infinite power today?

*Today's entry was rewritten from the 4/23/12 version of this post.

12/29/12-12/30/12—Letting Go of the Old

Weekend Reading: Death from the Morgan Greer. Could there be any more appropriate card for the year end? The Death card comes to speak of endings and new beginnings. Anytime you want to bring something new into your life, as you may do with your New Year's resolutions, you have to let go of the old way of being. That's the message Death brings...that's it's time to shed your old ways to make room for fresh new growth. So as you consider what you might want bring into being in the New Year, consider also what you need to let go of in order to make that happen. And honor the letting go. Whatever it is, it's something that once served you and it deserves respect. 

10/19/12—Dying to Know

Today's Draw: Death from the Darkana Tarot by Janden Hale. Does the thought of death scare you? Is the fear of making change greater than the fear of dying without making those changes? What do you think happens when you die?

Way back on New Year's Eve, someone made a suggestion of some questions to ask that would be perfect for the Death card and only now is it coming around to ask them. I think it may have come up earlier, but something else was top of mind at the time. I've been anxiously awaiting it to come for other reasons, too. So here's hoping we get lots of Death in the next month or two. :D

To begin with, Death is represented by a butterfly in the Darkana deck because the meaning of the Death card is transformation, not physical death. Just as the butterfly changes from caterpillar to butterfly, we go through transformations and makeovers and do-overs in our lives. But the topic suggested to me DID have to do with physical death. And it's about what we would do if we only had months to live. 

Thinking of that works into the theme this week seems to have followed...the theme of summing up and analysis of our life. One of the things that happens when someone important dies in our lives is that we tend to ask ourselves questions like....What if this were the last year of my life? What would I change? And why would I wait until I'm dying to make those changes? 

I have to admit that, thinking I was dying, I would quit work, rack up lots of debt, sleep a lot, spend a lot of time in nature and arrange for my dogs. If I were physically able, I would go to the Grand Canyon. That's if we're talking months. 

Faced with the fear, but not inevitability of death, I would probably make some of the changes I want to make...take some of the risks I don't feel comfortable with now. I think I would probably turn off the TV and use my time more wisely. That's a change I can make now...without fear. But a lot of the changes I want to make in my life would be LESS practical if I were sick...like would I move to another state and leave my support peeps behind? I don't think so.

In my head, I would think the threat of dying would change a lot for me, but now I've thought of it, I'm not so sure. Just as money keeps me a little tethered at this time, the illness and practicalities of disease would keep me tethered if I were sick. When it comes down to it, the things I most want to change are my career and my home and those things probably wouldn't change if I were sick. I already spend enough time with the critters I love most. I'd probably write more for myself. I'd certainly take better care of my health, which would probably be the biggest—and most ironic— change I would make. I don't know...that's all I got. What about you? What would you eliminate or add to your life if you knew it was limited?

To answer the other questions, I think if I were honest, I'd have to say I'm afraid of the process of death..the unknown. But I'm also afraid of dying short of delivering on whatever promise I made coming down here. I suppose that's either impossible or easily forgiven in the afterlife. I guess I want to find that I've been an overachiever down here, you know? All that said, while the human in me fears the act of death, I do believe that part of me is immortal and will actually be set free upon death. So I shouldn't be afraid. How about you?

10/11/12—Facing Death

Today's Draw: Transformation from the Osho Zen Tarot. Do do you feel change works on your timetable? Do you feel you have any control over the process at all? And if not, do you tend to busy yourself in stuff you CAN control in order to feel "right"?

This week we're talking about transformation and today we drew the Transformation card. It's called Death in most tarot decks, but what they really mean by death is transformation. Many of us feel in the midst of, or on the cusp of change. Some feel like we're in a holding pattern within that change energy, unable or unwanting to move forward. 

I get two messages for us from this card. The first message is that life only *appears* to work on our schedule and at our bidding. Certainly we have input. The way I see that things work is that I have a desire to change, I make my desire known, I start working toward it and, before I know it, the desire is fulfilled and change has come. 

But that's not working on MY timetable. My timetable would be that change would be instantaneous and painless. Then there are those times when I haven't even thought of change and it just came and hit me in the face. In a way, dog #3 is like that. I had decided not to get a dog. So I fostered. And failed. It's like a surprise pregnancy or a surprise job move or illness...sometimes change comes whether you want it or not. And you have to handle it because it's HERE. NOW. 

So I like to feel like a master manifester, but the truth is sometimes there are a lot of moving parts that take time to come into place...mental attitudes have to adjust, other things that were already in play having to do with the old you need to be stopped, and entire scenarios involving other people and other situations have to come into play. 

It's a wonder anything gets done. But my sense is, if it had to be done right NOW, that would happen too and we'd have no control over it. So my guess is we're all right where we should be—and NEED to be. We have no idea of all of the stuff churning up on our behalf in the background while everything seems to be immobile on the surface. Maybe we NEED to be staring off into space with empty eyes in a state of total shock! Bet you never thought of THAT. 

The other thing about this Transformation card is the way the all-powerful is touching the face of the person while at rest. I think sometimes we busy our lives with appointments and obligations and distractions to keep ourselves busy because it's easier than facing whatever emptiness or anxiety or risk or whatever it is that's happening at a time of change. 

So this card is basically saying to still yourself long enough to hear the voice of God in your life. Maybe that means quiet meditation at night. Or journaling dreams. Or taking some sort of retreat. Especially if being on hold in the midst of change is making you feel a little lost. Answers and wisdom and safety and love is waiting for you if you can still yourself long enough to receive it. 

9/17/12—Honoring Our Partnerships

Today's Draw Classic*: Two of Cups from the Victorian Romantic Tarot. Is there any relationship more complex, annoying, supportive, surprising, loving, inescapable, comfortable and enduring than the one you share with your sibling?

NOTE: I wrote this entry exactly five months ago, the last night I saw my brother alive. He passed four days later in his home. He would have been 54 today. Happy birthday, John Sadler. You are missed. 

The Two of Cups is usually about romantic partnership—love, union and connection. It doesn't always indicate romance, though. It can be any kind of partnership, both the kind you enter into into willingly and enthusiastically and the kind that are just byproducts of life. 

Forty-nine years ago, I entered into a partnership with five people. It wasn't a partnership of my choosing. At least not consciously. Sometimes it's been like an albatross around my neck. Sometimes it's been a privilege. Most of the time it vacillates between the two. Those people are my brothers and sisters and tonight might have been the last time I saw one of them in their earthly form. 

My brother John is the jock in the family. He played baseball, football and basketball throughout high school. He's six foot three inches of someone you don't want to mess with. And as tough as he's always been in his visage and demeanor, underneath he's always been a very vulnerable and sensitive soul. It wasn't always easy to see or access, but it was there.

Growing up I thought he'd have a hard time finding anyone who would be able to put up with him. But what ended up happening is that he married his perfect match. He has four kids who, quite rightly, worship him. And the machismo that I once thought might be his undoing, faded away into a man who wasn't afraid to let you see his weakness. And that weakness was his family. It was also his strength. 

One of the things that really made me look at my brother differently...to see him as something other than the annoying jock who walked around like he owned the place...was many years back when he lost his professional job in software sales. He wasn't able to find another job readily and I doubted his ego could withstanding having a wife as the breadwinner. But you know what he did? He became the house dad and he thrived in the role of nurturer and "homemaker". And when he found another job, he found one that allowed him to continue being there for his kids. He gave to his children what his own father wasn't capable of giving...presence. Attention. Nurturing. 

Last November he came down with a really bad "chest cold" that he just couldn't seem to shake. It got worse and worse until he ended up in the hospital nearly drowning in his own fluids. Turns out he had lung cancer. He's done all the things you do...chemo, radiation, etc. But he has a very aggressive and incurable type of lung cancer. There's no telling how much time he has left. But the way he looked tonight in the intensive care unit at the hospital, it didn't look like it was going to be long. In fact, in the pain and presence of mind he was in, I pray it isn't long.

We enter into these partnerships with our siblings and the agreement is that we'll always love each other, even if we hate each other. We'll always be bound by blood and parentage and a string of memories we will never share with anyone else—memories from a time when we were too full of life to ever think of death. We're never ready for the day when those partnerships begin dissolving...or transforming into something less tangible. 

My siblings and I lost our parents young. My mother died when I was 21 and my father when I was 25. We're no strangers to loss. But you grow up knowing your parents will die someday. For some reason, you never think your siblings will die someday, too. One of us has to watch this happen five times. Is that a blessing or a curse?  

My brother John is 53. He has four children, including a young man he'll never get to see play high school football the way his father watched him play. I'm not sure what breaks my heart the most, but I'm pretty sure it's that. I do know he'll be there. The smell of cigarette smoke...or farts...will waft up suddenly in the stands for no apparent reason. And that will be how we'll know he's there. 

We make these partnerships for a lifetime. But they really never end, do they? They go on beyond anything we imagine. My belief tells me this is true, but the human part of me is heartbroken tonight over the inevitability of what's to come, whether it's days or weeks from now. What a blessing, though, that nothing has gone unspoken, and that no part of the partnership has been left unfulfilled.

Please hold my brother, his wife and their four children in your prayers over the coming days and weeks in hopes they may find peace and strength in their transition. Thank you.

* From an entry dated 4/17/12

6/27/12—Viewing Life from the Perspective of the Soul

Today's Draw: Ten of Swords—Ruin—from the Rohrig Tarot, Part 1. Do setbacks have a tendency to really set you back? On the flip side, do you bounce back from things so quickly that you don't even take the time to honor their passing? Have you ever spent way too long mourning the loss of something in your life?

Day three of our weeklong reading on how to find more peace is the card "Ruin", a card of negative and unproductive thinking. So don't do that! OK? :) Actually, this card holds so much input into the matter of creating peace in our worlds that I'm going to address it in two parts, with the second part happening tomorrow.

Listen, not one of us is going scrape through life without something bad happening. We may be the victim of violence. Someone we love will die. Our marriage might end. Whatever it is, suddenly the life we knew is no longer. And we have no control over this. It's over.

Regardless, we will lose our sense of peace and balance over this. We need to feel. We need to mourn the old. But the key here is how long. And how we see the event in the overall context of our lives.

Some people will live for years telling themselves "my life is over" or "everything I cared about is gone". Some people will slip into depression or turn to drugs, numbing themselves to the pain. And some people will feel what they feel, take their lessons, then bounce back. This last quality has been cited on lists of things in common with both successful people and unusually old people. Your ability to bounce back contributes to both your success and longevity.

The faster you bounce back, the more peace you'll have, too. Buddhists teach that much of our suffering comes from attachment to things...non-acceptance of reality...wishing things were different. I also refer to it as pushing back against what is. Again, things need to be mourned. But things also need to be accepted and integrated.

Your marriage failed? Your life isn't over. Some might say it's really just beginning.

Someone you love died? You can love again. Dr. Phil once said something very good on this topic...the length and depth of your mourning has no relation to the length and depth of your love. They are two separate things. Being happy is not a betrayal of that love. In fact, anyone who loved you would want to see you happy, so it honors that love.

You were the victim of a crime? There's a lot to heal there. There's also a lot to learn and triumph over.

Most of the negative thoughts we think after a trauma are not true. They reflect our fears and feelings at the time. But there is a whole school of thought that can bring you back to peace. One thought is that there are no mistakes, only learning experiences. Another is that nothing is ever lost, it's just transformed. These two perspectives alone can bring you more peace, learning and healing than wallowing ever could.

There simply is no such thing as "ruin". Ruin happens when the foundation upon which you've built something is not substantial enough to hold what you've built. So ruin happens to show you where you need to build stronger foundations in your life. If someone died or a relationship ended and you "simply cannot go on", then your foundation of self-confidence, self-reliance and self-identity wasn't strong enough to support the relationship in the first place.

Nobody *is* your life. No state of being *is* your life. Nothing is permanent beyond your soul. And when you view life from the perspective of the soul, then you'll see "ruin" does not exist. And a world in which ruin does not exist is a more peaceful one, indeed.

5/11/12—Letting The Sun Shine In

Today's Draw: The Sun from Dylan's Tarot by Dylan Guthrie. What has brought you joy today? What is your best, guaranteed, sure-fire way to raise your spirits when you're down? And what can you do to bring a little joy into someone else's heart today?

I received two tarot decks in the mail today. One is called Tierney's Delight, the latest major's only deck by Beth Seilonen. It's Number 1 of 50, which is an absolute honor. And it came with a note from the artist thanking me for my inspiration. As you can imagine, all of that gave me quite a smile. I mean, how many tarot enthusiasts have a deck named after them AND have the honor of getting the first copy?

But you know what gave me a bigger smile? The note that came with the second deck, Dylan's Tarot. Mine is Number 8 of 25, which was, interestingly enough, Dylan's age at the time of the deck's creation in 2008-2009. At 8, Dylan Guthrie was possibly the youngest tarot artist in the world, making his limited-edition deck a must for any collector. He is the son of Beth Seilonen, creator of Tarot Leaves, my favorite Fishy Tarot and, of course, my new favorite Tierney's Delight.

The note came on a card with a lighthouse on it, illustrated by his mom. It was written in the artist's own hand and it said, "Thank you for buying Dylan's Tarot. It has been a long time since I have had a sale! Sincerely, Dylan." He signed the card in cursive and accompanied the signature by a neatly printed version of his name so I would know it was him.

Clearly there has been an egregious oversight in the tarot community if I was able to snag copy #8 of 25 of this delightful major's only deck. Few decks reflect the whimsy and innocence—not to mention the fresh eye—of this heavily researched, year-long labor of love. Had I chosen Justice, I might delve further into the INjustice of this deck having not already gone out of print! 

But I won't go there, because today I chose the Sun card, which is about happiness. And Dylan's deck and his note brought me a sweet dose of that today. 

While still adhering to the traditional, many cards are visually reinterpreted in surprising and symbolic ways. For example, the shadow cast from the Devil while being lit by the flames of hell makes me think of how much bigger our personal challenges and shadow selves can appear to us, making them that much harder for us to overcome.

The Death card evokes the Ten of Swords to me in the sense that it shows someone utterly defeated, but with the sun rising in the background, suggesting the dawn of a new day. Also the three bees or dragonflies intrigue me...perhaps a new resourcefulness rising up from the defeat? A trinity of transformation in body, mind and soul?

And the Hanged Man also stands out because the man is displaying a different posture from the traditional card and he hangs over water, which is suggestive of emotion. Since the traditional meaning of this card is finding a new point of view or taking a pause in the action, it seems to call on us to take a more measured look at the emotions of whatever situation we're in...or that perhaps the solution we speak is in suspending ourselves in or near our emotions before we can acquire the grounding we seek. 

But perhaps the masterwork of this deck is the card I chose today, The Sun. It has a lot of traditional symbolism in it with the sunflowers and the horse and the bright, happy sun shining down. Everyone in this card—the bird, the horse, the child—is stopping to smell the flowers. Even the sun seems to be wanting to catch a whiff. And that's where happiness lies, isn't it? In immersing yourself in the beauty of this very moment. And even at the age of 8, Dylan knows that beauty is all around us. We just have to open our awareness long enough to look. 

Dylan's Tarot comes in a black velvet-y bag, snuggled within a one-of-a-kind illustrated box that bears the numbered copy of the deck. It is a small deck, perhaps a bit smaller than a deck of playing cards. It is a BARGAIN at any price, but at the time of this publication was available at a reduced price of $25...for a limited edition deck! That took a year to research and create! Outrageous! I'm guessing Dylan is 11 or 12 now and could buy some wicked video games or boy gear with the proceeds he could earn from his remaining decks. Just sayin'.

Today's entry was more like a deck review than my usual thing. But it also illustrates how the simplest things, like a note from a child, an exploration of a new deck or one of the countless flowers that's blooming at this time of year can bring joy. We just have to clear our daily haze long enough to experience it. What has brought you joy today? And if you haven't yet found it, what can you do to make it happen?

4/23/12—Being the Ripple

Today's Draw Classic*: Kizzie, my handsome boy. Do you know how significant your power is in the world? Do you realize that each and every day you make an impact on the overall vibration of humanity? How will you use your power today?

As many of you read last week, my brother was very ill. He passed into spirit this past weekend. I didn't have the time or energy tonight to do an entirely new entry, but I thought about an entry that I posted a couple of months ago and decided to use it as a basis for this entry....

The other day I saw something I've seen a million times. Only this time, I saw it in a completely different way. My dogs and I took a trip to the park and my boy, Kizzie, decided to go in the river for a dip (nevermind that it's the middle of winter). Anyway, as I saw him standing there, I noticed all the ripples issuing out with him at the center. Each time he moved, a new set of ripples would form. And the ripple effect of each motion would continue out into the river, despite the current. Despite anything. Indefinitely.

His presence was recorded throughout the river that day—through the ripples in the water, the displacement of the air around his ripples, by his ripples meeting the shore and bouncing back. In the same way, his presence was recorded throughout the universe.

Beyond that, on land, the wag of his tail, his body temperature and the sound of his breath had a similar effect in the environment around him, sending forth kinetic, sonic and heat waves from his body.

According to Wikipedia, a wave is a "disturbance (an oscillation) that travels through space and time, accompanied by the transfer of energy." Einstein's famous equation, E=MC2, posits that everything in the universe is energy. So what we see in the water above is Kizzie's energetic body having an effect on the water's energetic body. And since energy is never created or destroyed—only transferred—the effect he has is eternal. Pervasive. Ubiquitous.

Our lives work the same way. My brother had four children, so clearly his impact will be felt by generations and generations. But even if he never had a child, the same would be true. 

Imagine the kind of ripple effect even something as simple as a smile can create. You smile at someone and cause them them to smile and feel a little more part of this world. That changes them, even if ever so slightly in that moment, and that change is passed on to the others they encounter that day. The vibration they spread is just a smidge higher than it would have been. And the people they encounter are similarly raised. And so on. And so on. And it ripples around the world, back past the original smiler, indefinitely. 

Of course the same is true about being a grumpy gus.

But the point I'm making is that no matter how "small and insignificant" we are, the impact of our every breath and thought echoes out into the universe to create the "whole". And that impact continues long after our death. We're still benefiting from the simple work of the men who built the railroads, women who showed their independence and the early men and women who moved out of caves and built humanity's first communities. We're also still affected by the ripple created by those who never spoke up against Hitler, spread the belief that the earth was flat and sailed to Africa to grab people and make them slaves in the New World. 

All of those people were everyday people, motivated by the same things that motivate people today and cause them to make good, bad, normal, misinformed and inspired choices today. For better or for worse, each of those people and their collective groups are still making a difference today. As will your choices to recycle, use gasoline, eat meat or make myriad other choices that we can and cannot have the foresight to see the impact of in any given moment. 

The beautiful thing about this is that, regardless of what you believe about God and heaven, we live on in this very real way for eternity. We matter. No matter how normal and mundane our contributions. Do you think those railroad men, like my grandfather, felt like the kings of transportation, trade, information sharing, development and connection that they were? 

There is a reason for you being here. There was a reason my brother was here. And, even in his moment of death, he sent a ripple out that would change the way many people would consider their lives, even for a moment. There is nothing we do, nothing we are, that doesn't have this import in the lives around us and the lives around all those people, etc. 

You are the ripple. Everything you say and do today will be forever felt by the universe. How will you use your infinite power today?

*Today's entry was significantly adapted from 2/17/12's entry.

4/17/12—Honoring Our Partnerships

Today's Draw: Two of Cups from the Victorian Romantic Tarot. Is there any relationship more complex, annoying, supportive, surprising, loving, inescapable, comfortable and enduring than the one you share with your sibling?

The Two of Cups is usually about romantic partnership—love, union and connection. It doesn't always indicate romance, though. It can be any kind of partnership, both the kind you enter into into willingly and enthusiastically and the kind that are just byproducts of life. 

Forty-nine years ago, I entered into a partnership with five people. It wasn't a partnership of my choosing. At least not consciously. Sometimes it's been like an albatross around my neck. Sometimes it's been a privilege. Most of the time it vacillates between the two. Those people are my brothers and sisters and tonight might have been the last time I saw one of them in their earthly form. 

My brother John is the jock in the family. He played baseball, football and basketball throughout high school. He's six foot three inches of someone you don't want to mess with. And as tough as he's always been in his visage and demeanor, underneath he's always been a very vulnerable and sensitive soul. It wasn't always easy to see or access, but it was there.

Growing up I thought he'd have a hard time finding anyone who would be able to put up with him. But what ended up happening is that he married his perfect match. He has four kids who, quite rightly, worship him. And the machismo that I once thought might be his undoing, faded away into a man who wasn't afraid to let you see his weakness. And that weakness was his family. It was also his strength. 

One of the things that really made me look at my brother differently...to see him as something other than the annoying jock who walked around like he owned the place...was many years back when he lost his professional job in software sales. He wasn't able to find another job readily and I doubted his ego could withstanding having a wife as the breadwinner. But you know what he did? He became the house dad and he thrived in the role of nurturer and "homemaker". And when found another job, he found one that allowed him to continue being there for his kids. He gave to his children what his own father wasn't capable of giving...presence. Attention. Nurturing. 

Last November he came down with a really bad "chest cold" that he just couldn't seem to shake. It got worse and worse until he ended up in the hospital nearly drowning in his own fluids. Turns out he had lung cancer. He's done all the things you do...chemo, radiation, etc. But he has a very aggressive and incurable type of lung cancer. There's no telling how much time he has left. But the way he looked tonight in the intensive care unit at the hospital, it didn't look like it was going to be long. In fact, in the pain and presence of mind he was in, I pray it isn't long.

We enter into these partnerships with our siblings and the agreement is that we'll always love each other, even if we hate each other. We'll always be bound by blood and parentage and a string of memories we will never share with anyone else—memories from a time when we were too full of life to ever think of death. We're never ready for the day when those partnerships begin dissolving...or transforming into something less tangible. 

My siblings and I lost our parents young. My mother died when I was 21 and my father when I was 25. We're no strangers to loss. But you grow up knowing your parents will die someday. For some reason, you never think your siblings will die someday, too. One of us has to watch this happen five times. Is that a blessing or a curse?  

My brother John is 53. He has four children, including a young man he'll never get to see play high school football the way his father watched him play. I'm not sure what breaks my heart the most, but I'm pretty sure it's that. I do know he'll be there. The smell of cigarette smoke...or farts...will waft up suddenly in the stands for no apparent reason. And that will be how we'll know he's there. 

We make these partnerships for a lifetime. But they really never end, do they? They go on beyond anything we imagine. My belief tells me this is true, but the human part of me is heartbroken tonight over the inevitability of what's to come, whether it's days or weeks from now. What a blessing, though, that nothing has gone unspoken, and that no part of the partnership has been left unfulfilled.

Please hold my brother, his wife and their four children in your prayers over the coming days and weeks in hopes they may find peace and strength in their transition. Thank you.